Dreams of Hope
by BenRG
Summary: Oracle has a dream - What does it mean? A short story created in response to a drawing I saw on deviantart. NW/Ora


**Dreams of Hope**

By BenRG

**Disclaimer**

Nightwing and Oracle plus all locations of that universe are the property of DC Comics. This is a not-for-profit fan-work for free distribution through the world-wide web.

**Author's Notes**

This vignette was written in response to the picture 'Oracle Dreams' by ArgoForg on deviantART (argoforg deviantart com - just put dots in place of the spaces). All credit for the name of Babs' possible future costumed future self goes to that artist.

I couldn't figure out precisely where to post this story. Is it a Nightwing? Not really! Is it a Birds of Prey? Not really! In the end, I chose the Batman board as that is where both characters originated.

Censor: T - Just for safety's sake

* * *

_Nightwing leaned closer and Nightingale's smiled in joy as her lover, her brother warrior, perhaps her future husband's lips met her in a kiss of victory…_

Then, just as that electric contact occurred, Barbara Gordon, Oracle and once Batgirl, was awake.

Babs blinked around herself in a certain degree of startled amazement. As always, it took a few moments for reality to reassert itself in the redheaded woman's mind after such a vivid, wonderful dream. Once again, she was in her apartment, The Clocktower, the roof-top home and working space that was also the base of operations of The Oracle, the _über_-hacker and controller for Batman's growing band of allies. The only real way she could contribute to Bruce Wayne's mission since… She looked up and, with a bitter lurch in her heart, saw the overhead bars that she needed to lift her body, paralysed below the waist, to her wheelchair parked beside her bed.

Suddenly, she became aware of something. It was strange, a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. Selina Kyle had always claimed that she knew when Batman was watching her and, just of late, Babs had been getting to understand that feeling. She twisted around in her bed and looked up at her boyfriend, Dick Grayson, Nightwing. Her lover as looking down at her from his place next to her in the bed, his head propped up on an arm as he looked at her in absorbed fascination. Any other time, Babs would have been flattered, maybe even a little aroused by this steady gaze. This early in the morning, with no coffee in her, she was just annoyed. "What're you lookin' at, Dick?" she mumbled as she wiped the sleep out of her eyes.

"You were having another 'Batgirl' dream, weren't you Babs?" Dick asked with a slight smile.

Babs blushed slightly. Actually, she was having the same dream that, with variations, she had seemingly every night ever since the day she awoke to be told that the Joker's shot had left her paraplegic and trapped for the rest of her life in a wheelchair. She had dreamt that she was again a masked vigilante, soaring from rooftop to rooftop before delivering a high-kicking, acrobatic smack-down to the scum of Gotham. Recently, however, since she and Dick had restarted their relationship from long ago, the rooftops and that scum had turned to those of Blüdhaven, as had the Rogues Gallery upon which said smack-down was being delivered. The costume her dream-self had changed to a facsimile of Dick's Nightwing costume but with a golden bird instead of Dick's blue. Also, she was no longer flying alone, or alongside Batman and Robin, but alongside Nightwing. What was it that dream-Dick called her? Oh yeah: 'Nightingale'.

"Sort of," Babs admitted at last, knowing that her blush had betrayed her too thoroughly to make denial even remotely viable. "Um... How did you...?"

"How did I know?" Dick reached out to stroke some of Babs' long, red hair from her face. "Simple, my dear Oracle. Whenever you have that dream... you start kicking me!"

"I... what?" Babs shook her head, tears of angry pain starting at the corner of her eyes at such thoughtless words. "Dick! That isn't funny!" She tried to push Dick away... or slap him... or something.

Dick shook his head and grabbed Babs' small hands in his, easily restraining her. "No joke," he insisted. "It's weak, but it's there; Maybe a reflex or something. _Maybe_ your subconscious mind has found a way around your injuries that your conscious mind can't somehow..." The black-haired man grinned at his true love. "I think that there's still hope, Babs!"

That was when Barbara _did_ start crying... but not from anger.


End file.
